


A Bag End Breakfast

by Belladonna_Q



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Breakfast, Collab, Cute, Fluff, Food Porn, Hand Feeding, Kinda, M/M, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Second breakfast, Thorin Lives, prompt fest, reapersun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6649612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belladonna_Q/pseuds/Belladonna_Q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>@lainabugrhymenoceros Prompt:</p><p>“Bagginshield where second breakfast gets a bit steamy... Or cute. Second breakfast. Please.”</p><p>@aconsultinghufflepuff Prompt:</p><p>“What would it be like if Thorin hadn't died?”<br/>---<br/>With a sheepish smile, Thorin gave a motion to his chin. “Honey is not the most… friendly to the bearded.”</p><p>“Ah,” Bilbo said with a grin. Setting the spoon down, he lifted the toast to his eye level and placed a hand on his hip. “I can certainly help you with that."<br/>---<br/><span></span><br/>For <a href="http://www.reapersun.tumblr.com">Reapersun </a>and <a href="http://www.belladonnaq.tumblr.com">BelladonnaQ's </a>prompt fest :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bag End Breakfast

The sun peeked over the edge of the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape of Hobbiton. As the morning beckoned for the return to consciousness, life began to stir on the land. Rays of light began to warm the long grass of the fields and the calls of the livestock and songbirds began to rise in volume.  

Within the estate known as Bag End only one soul stirred out of two. Bilbo Baggins held a mug with both hands, sipping his morning tea, looking out into the awakening town he called home with such a fondness it nearly hurt his heart. As the sun stole its way across his windows and into his kitchen, brightening the entirety of it, he smiled and set his mug gently on the countertop.

He began to prepare. It was quite easy, always had been, clearly a habit formed from years of repetition and his own Hobbit disposition. And now, home once more, this morning ritual had been so very sorely missed. As Bilbo pulled a pan of crispy sausage from the fire and scooped it onto a small dish, he decided then that this custom was comfortable as well. Something soothing, calming and expected. And certainly now, much needed, after such trying times.

He looked affectionately at his kitchenware and many good foods. To the many jars of jams and jellies, the small plate of warming butter and bottles of various honeys. Just above his head, his flatware, clean and shiny, ladles and great stirring spoons hanging from their respective hooks. To his right, deep dishes of cheeses, plates of minced pies and bowls of fruits of various reds and blues. And to his left, baskets of fresh breads and rolls near his cabinet of good wines which nestled next to a barrel of hearty ale (not his type, clearly, but it made the second denizen of his home quite happy indeed.)

Everything in its place. Everything in its home.

Them as well, he supposed.

It was then, quite on schedule, that Thorin Oakenshield made his appearance. Bilbo smiled as he heard, not saw, his dwarf shuffle into their kitchen. His back to the other, Bilbo lazily spread butter across a bit of toast. He smiled as Thorin pressed up behind him and placed a hand on his arponed hip.

“Good morning then,” Bilbo said, and heard the dwarf murmur something of the affirmative into the back of his head, nose in his hair. “Right on schedule then,” he continued lightly, placing the knife on the cutting board. “I’ve had my breakfast mind but, time for bit of second breakfast for you then, yes?”

Turning now, Bilbo gave the dwarf just the smallest touch of a push, backing him up. Thorin smiled broadly. “Yes,” he started, voice still rough with sleep. “I am definitely getting used to the all the various,” he yawned then like a great, sleepy cat. “Meals,” he ended with a rumpled smile.

“Mm,” Bilbo nodded, amused, and then remembered. “Oh,” reaching, he plucked a small jar of honey from a cupboard. “Gaffer brought this by this morning. Said we might want to give it a try.”

“Gaffer?”

“My gardener, Gaffer Gamgee? Anyhow, he says that this,” Bilbo pointed. “Is a new type of honey, strawberry infused or some such. Not quite sure but,” he smiled as he dipped his silver spoon. “It’s quite good. You ought to give it a try,” he said casually as he spooned the thick honey onto the toast.

Thorin shifted, frowning. “I’m not one to eat much honey. “

Bilbo started and glanced up, “Why’s that now?”

With a sheepish smile, Thorin gave a motion to his chin. “Honey is not the most… friendly to the bearded.”

“Ah,” Bilbo said with a grin. Setting the spoon down, he lifted the toast to his eye level and placed a hand on his hip. “I can certainly help you with that problem.”

With a delicate pull, Bilbo tugged a corner piece off the toast. Honey sloped slowly off the side as he brought his hand up to Thorin’s mouth, the bit of buttered toast and honey in his small hand. The dwarf looked tremendously amused.

“I don’t know if this is necessary,” he said, even as his mouth opened, clearly pleased in a way.

“Mmhm,” Bilbo smiled as he placed the piece between the other's lips with a delicate touch. “Good yes?” He questioned, even as Thorin gave a nod of approval as he chewed. “Now hurry then with the rest,” he said with a motion to the sausages, eggs and breads. “It’s getting close to elevensies, and we shan't miss that as well!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!~


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